Zavala's Vision
by SturyMC
Summary: Zavala has been promoted to Vanguard Leader, but he hates it. The Traveller has given Zavala a vision of the city being destroyed, but he can't do anything to stop it. Politics keep getting in the way, and just he misses being a soldier when things were simple.


_I don't have any grasp on Destiny lore. I wrote this story to give Zavala a bit more flavour. I've always thought he was a drab character, and I've tried to write him with a bit of spice. This is the story of Zavala learning what it means to be a leader._

Zavala's Vision

His large shoulders were trapped in the proud colours of pearl white and crimson red. Zavala's new armour was given to him during his Vanguard inauguration. He complained that it was too bulky for battle and the famous armour smith only laughed. Squeezing through the tight hallways, Zavala muttered to himself about the high ceilings. A waste of space, Zavala thought to himself, these mighty roofs make the building a larger target. Earth's last city would be ruined by impractical design. Architects trying too hard to be artists, and armour smiths trying too hard to be dressmakers. When he finally knocked on the speaker's door, he nearly split the wood with his fist. He thought to himself, I never should have accepted this promotion.

The speaker swung open the door, fuming. "Do you know what this door cost me?" He said, inspecting the dent Zavala made. "A hideous scar across your face, which can only be hidden with an equally hideous mask. Let me inside there's business to discuss." Zavala made his own entrance, brushing past the speaker and landing in a pillowy chair. The room was draped in silk, dripping with exotic flavour. "Speaker. We need to discuss the fortification of the city, or the lack thereof…" Zavala said trying to find the strap that loosens his armour. The steamy sunset beaming through the veranda was cooking Zavala like a lobster inside its shell. "There's nothing wrong with the city's fortifications, I've told you time and time again. Can I get you a drink?" The speaker said, already pouring him a long glass of spiced wine. Zavala downed the glass immediately and asked for another. "In my short time as Vanguard Commander I've identified seven weak points in the wall. I would repair them myself but I need planning approval. You need to talk to the Chancellor." The speaker collapsed lazily into his own pillowy throne. "Zavala, honey, if the city had seven weak points we'd be drowning in plasma and fire already. Now please, let's change the subject, you're spoiling magic hour." Zavala poured himself a second drink. Getting a little tipsy now he abruptly stood up, breaking a leg of the chair and splashing his second glass. "You're all the same. Never seen a day of battle in your life." The speaker sipped at his wine, like a parent waiting for their toddler's tantrum to conclude. Zavala grabbed the wine by the bottleneck. "Politics! Pleasing the crowd! Approval ratings! The city is about to burn. You're the speaker aren't you? SPEAK to the Chancellor!" Zavala finished the bottle while the speaker watched. "Honey, you're new to leadership – I can tell. As a soldier it's simple. You just follow orders. Now I think you'll find things a little more challenging. You can't fix every problem, because I promise you this," the speaker took another sip, "there are more problems than solutions." Zavala burst the door off its hinges as he stormed out, saying "Excuses speaker! If you won't do it I'll find someone else to speak for me!"

In his quarters Zavala realised that he had drunk too much. The straps of his chunky armour were exhausting. It was a long struggle to take his clothes off, and finally change into pyjamas. Lying in bed his head was swimming. Twelve hours ago he had a terrible nightmare, and he hoped tonight it wouldn't repeat. He dreamed of thousands of fallen, tripping over the wall, flooding into the city streets with a grin as they slaughtered the last bastion of humanity. It petrified Zavala that is was only a group of scavengers to bring the city to crumble. Not a god of darkness, not a deity of the evil, just a handful of organised fallen desperate enough to throw themselves into countless bullets until the ammo reserves ran dry. There would be no great battle of good and evil. One morning the city would awake to infestation swarming through dawning city streets. Zavala awoke from this dream in sweaty panic, it felt real and tangible, like a vision from the Traveller.

The morning after his night with the speaker, Zavala avoided loud noises and tried to steer clear of anyone who might recognise him. His hangover was outrageous, and if Cayde saw him like this he would never hear the end of it. Zavala approached Ikora softly. She was meditating in her tent and jumped when she realised Zavala was watching her. "You look awful." She said offering a glass of water. Zavala tried not to gag as he forced the water down. "I feel awful. I think I've had a vision."  
"I think you just drank too much last night."  
"Not last night, the night before. I think the Traveller is trying to warn me, but I'm unsure." Ikora grabbed her tablet and started filing a report, but Zavala snatched it out of her hand. He continued, "This needs to stay between us. The Chancellor cannot know about this. He is already questioning my position as a Vanguard leader, and looking for a reason to lock me out."  
"I see…" Ikora said returning to her seat.  
"I need you to talk to the Chancellor." He said.  
Ikora thought about it, trying to find leverage from the favour. "First I need to confirm the vision is legitimate. Second I need you to apologise to the Chancellor. The vanguard can't be fighting the city it's trying to protect." Ikora said.  
"Very well." Zavala said giving his hands to Ikora. She explained that a visions remain inside the brain like an echo. You can never revisit it, but you can skim the mind's impression of it. The practise is fairly useless, because the brain has already absorbed the necessary details. This would merely be an exercise of evidence, to prove that the vision was a genuine blessing not just a bad dream. Ikora tried to make it perfectly clear that we would gain no Intel from this session, although Zavala found that hard to believe. Surely if he could just rescan the vision, he could recall certain details he missed before. He'd brought along a notebook to write down any notes, even if it was just weapon type. But as it turns out the brain isn't built for such details. The mind doesn't trade in that data, it deals in feelings. That's why visions are tricky, they transmit information with upmost efficiency and clarity. A tightly compressed emotional expressions. Visions require a special surrogate who has the correct fears to correctly express the vision's message. Someone who is scared of rats might have incorrectly interpreted the vision as hoard of rodents overrunning the city. Therefore a vision must find the correct individual to carry. Someone who's biggest fear is scraggly, meaningless bottom feeders. An enemy which has no great principle, just reckless survival. And the vision doesn't contain any information other than a strong feeling that something is deeply wrong. So when Ikora told him the fallen attack was imminent, it came to Zalava as zero surprise.

The meditation had cleared Zavala's mind. The hangover had passed and now he embraced the powerful blue sky and crowded market. His next stop was the chancellor's office, an emerald building tucked into the centre of the last city. When he arrived the sun was at noon, hitting the peak of the building's spear. It gleamed perfectly, and although Zavala wasn't usually one to fall for grandiose views and extreme luxury, he was always impressed by this one. He pushed through a pair of scrawny security officers as he made his way through yet another long hall. He anticipated a colossal argument to erupt as soon as the chancellor saw him. Its 'uncouth' to visit the chancellor without a meeting planned. And surely enough, when Zalava arrived with a peppy secretary chasing behind him, the chancellor flushed red with anger. He was currently on the phone engaged in high-discourse, regarding the politics of 'forgiven-fallen' visas. A preposterous idea, Zavala thought, there's already a place for those types deep in the outer solar system, away from the city's walls. As the chancellor wrapped up his phone call, the red draining from his face returning him to a Winston Churchill rosey-red. Zavala noticed the state of his private office. Mountains of paper work, splattered from wall to wall. And filing cabinets so large that the room's window was completely blocked. It gave the impression that they were on the basement level, even though the opposite was true.

"You know the protocol Zavala, book an appointment and we'll talk when I have time." The chancellor said, sorting through documents. Zavala took a step closer, "I'm afraid this is urgent. But first of all, I'm here to issue an apology. I'm sorry for calling you an idiot last week."  
"Okay. Apology accepted. Now if you would please…" He motioned to the door and the secretary who had finally caught up.  
"I'm sorry sir he just charged through our security. The medics are on their way now." She said, keeping eyes on Zavala.  
"Sorry about your men chancellor, but as I said this is urgent-"The chancellor interrupted.  
"Traveller's light! Are the men okay, Mindy?"  
"No." She said.  
"I'm calling security." The chancellor said. Before he could pick up the phone Zavala crushed it in his bare hands.  
"You must listen. A fallen army is gathering at the cities wall. In less than a week they'll break through unless we implement urgent fortification."  
"Enough Zavala, always with the walls. I can't pitch that to the senate. One quarter of our population remains unsheltered, with more refuges flooding in every day, but you would have me build walls over houses?"  
"The houses will burn!"  
"The wall will ROT!"  
"Chancellor, I have had a vision from the traveller." Zavala said.  
"I do not care for guardians and their visions. If you care for the city you will defend it like a man, not a guardian. Show me the evidence of this attack. Then we can arrange a meeting. But don't barge into my office like a thug, hand me an apology than slap me with demand." As the chancellor finished the secretary returned with another two nervous security guards. They were thankful when Zavala escorted himself quietly. Under his breath he called the chancellor an idiot.

He took the long way home. Wandering through city's autumn park, through the blue-window business district, into the red-neon downtown. He found himself a ramen shop and dug in. The streets were jammed with pedestrians, all pushing against each other, anxious to get somewhere. In less than a week they'll all be dead. Zavala went for his wallet to pay for his late lunch, but it was gone. Someone must have snatched it in the streets. Plucked it out straight out of his bulky armour. Unbelievable, he thought, what type of fool would risk getting on my bad side. Zavala was about a foot taller than the rest of the crowd. He scanned the streets for anyone suspicions, then quickly realised that every one of them looked like they have something to hide.  
"Looking for something!" Cayde said, nesting a beer across the bar. He was waving Zavala's ivory wallet in the air. Zavala awkwardly navigated through the stools and customers to find a seat next to Cayde. "How did you get that?" He said as he grabbed it back.  
"How did YOU end up in my neck of the woods?" Cayde replied.  
"I don't want to talk about it." Zavala said ordering himself a beer.  
Zavala continued "The city is going to burn. I had a vision," he took a swig "and there's nothing that can be done."  
"Oh." Cayde took a sip. "Have you told anyone?"  
"Ikora took me through the meditations, and I told the Chancellor."  
"How did he take it?"  
"He threw me on to the streets."  
"Zavala, I gotta' tell you, politics is not your strong suite."  
"Yes, Cayde, I know. I'm a soldier, fighting is pure and divine. Conversation is a dark art, practised by those who believe in the occult and politicians." Zavala said.  
"Yeah, I guess so. I've never had too much trouble talking. It's sort of like thinking but for everyone. Did you book an appointment?"  
"There was no time."  
"Do you apologise?"  
"I said I was sorry for calling him an idiot."  
"Mmm, but you didn't apologise for the meeting?"  
"Correct."  
Cayde thought for a moment, "I think you lack humility, Zavala."  
"Watch your tongue, Hunter- oh, I see your point."  
"Well here's your chance to practise." Cayde pointed to a cloaked figure pushing through the sea of people. It was Ikora, and the rage was dripping off her like the condensation on Zavala's beer.  
"You idiot. I told you to apologise."  
"I did and then he said 'I accept.'" Zavala said.  
"He's pushing to have you demoted." Ikora said.  
"What's new?" Cayde laughed, and Zavala joined in too.  
"He's got the senate this time. Zavala, what did you do to those security guards?" Ikora demanded.  
"Well I needed to see the chancellor, and they told me I needed an appointment, and I said it was urgent, so I pushed past them." Zavala explained.  
"Well one of them is in hospital, and you're expected to stand trial." Ikora said.  
Cayde gave Zavala a pat on the back, "Hey buddy, we've all been there. Just talk your way out of it like I do."  
"I will not apologise to that moron and his legion of monkeys. The city is about to be destroyed." Zavala said.  
"If the city is destroyed it's your fault. All you needed to do was book an appointment and explain the situation calmly. The chancellor is a reasonable man until you make him angry." Ikora said.  
"To be fair Zavala, you just email his secretary and she replies quickly if the subject line is 'URGENT.'" Cayde chimed in.  
"I did not know that." Just as Zavala finished his beer, Ikora ordered another round and sat at the bar. The chef in the kitchen was serving bowls of ramen at lightning speed, with the street's soundtrack consisting of high strung vendors chirping, and the bassy roar of the crowd. The three of them stuck out. Ikora looked like a wizard from a fantasy epic, Zavala like a statue come to life, and Cayde who would normally fit snugly into this joint, suddenly popped as an outsider between these two caricatures.  
"I've have an idea." Zavala announced.

A few months ago when Zavala started to monitor the wall's slow collapse, he made the decision to skip past his own segment. He had overseen its construction, he trusted the builder and had faith in the materials used. If any part of the wall were to remain intact, it would be his part. He expected maybe a splash of mould, but his estimation was much, much too low. As the three guardians pushed through rusted copper wires, and walked across fungi eco system, it was as if they had been thrown back in time. The architecture reminded them of the golden age, which Zavala hadn't thought about in quite some time. They built this wall shortly after the collapse. The loosely curved aesthetic made the wall seem like the hull of sea fairing ship. The shiny copper that had once decorated the inner wall had shrunk to a sickly green. At the time this wall represented a return to good old days. Well look at it now, Zavala thought. The chancellor was right, the wall was rotten. It was in worse shape than any of Zavala's other reports. From the outside the wall looked like an iron mountain, but walking through it's guts you got the sense that it was about to buckle. The next segment had already collapsed. A support beam had folded and cut a tear in wall. Sunlight shot into the walls innards and leaves had been gathering for months, maybe years. The three of them couldn't believe what they were seeing. With a security breach like this, how had they not been invaded sooner? Any fallen scout could climb inside, take a tour of the wall, and report back from an easy promotion. When the fallen attack comes, this will be the wound they gorge into.

The three of them leaped off the collapsed beam and took for the wild lands. The vanguard leaders had all deserted their posts, should the attack happen in the next few hours, the city would surely be doomed. But it was doomed anyway.

Ikora told Zavala to trust his gut. His vision had left a vague geographic impression, like when you're walking down a strange street in a familiar suburb, Ikora explained. He was leading them through a stony tundra, officially titled the 'Jagged Plain,' but officially it had never been explored. It was clear why.  
"There's nothing here," Cayde kicked a stone, "just rocks." The stone skimmed along ground until it abruptly stopped with a thunk. The horizon shimmered like a gas leak. As a reflex, the three of them whipped out their choice weapon. Submachine gun, hand cannon, and assault rifle. But there was nothing in front of them, except a long stretch of open air. They approached the stone carefully, and the horizon flattened into a two dimensional image. Eventually the horizon evaporated entirely, and what lay ahead of them was a giant steel wall. A wall that paled in comparison to the city's, but remarkable in the fact that it was invisible until a few meters ago.  
"Illusionary nanofiber." Ikora remarked.  
"It's just like those invisible fallen!" Cayde added.  
"Hidden fallen!" Zavala added also.  
"Yeah, I just said that…" Cayde said.  
Zavala unleashed a ward of dawn, casting a purple bubble around the trio. Plasma and fire cindered against the holographic hard light.  
"Oh gotcha." Cayde finished.  
They were surrounded by fallen, drenched in the same technology that made the wall in front of them invisible. Looking carefully, Zavala counted approximately twenty, but it was hard to be sure. The heavy sunlight made them vaguely glow like the outlines of a cartoon. A deeply disturbed cartoon that had an extra sets of limbs, and mandibles anticipating the lofty fight were dripping with saliva. Zavala's bubble wavered under the firepower. You could hear the telekinetic barrier thin as the sound of gunfire got louder and clearer. It couldn't survive another ten seconds with this much heat. The armada were hitting it with everything they had, and reinforcements were surely inbound.

Zavala smoothly aimed his rifle. The bubble burst but in cool bursts of gunfire, Zavala knocked down three cloaked fallen before they realised it had popped. A grenade from his waist took out a small clustered group, which had attempted to setup a plasma turret but ran out of time. Shrapnel took out another two by sheer luck. Cayde was held by the throat, and Zavala sliced off the claw holding him with a tight volley of bullets. This is more like it, Zavala thought. He crouched and three plasma bolts whizzed past his head, melting the nanofiber wall behind him. Another magazine tore up the spine of a scout with a blade inches from Ikora's jugular. Covered in blood Ikora was only slightly pleased to be rescued. The fallen commander pushed past the last remaining fallen with a shotgun and ugly set mandibles. A scattered blast shaved past Zavala's bulky shoulder piece, and another pump clipped his assault rifle straight out of his hands. With Zavala unarmed, the commander charged straight for Zavala and threw him to the ground. Now I know how it feels, Zalava thought, remembering the security officers from yesterday. With on hoof on his chest, he watched the titan load its spikey shotgun. With the gun aimed straight at his head, a stray bullet knocked it out of focus. The pellets landed into the dirt left of Zavala's head, turning him deaf in one ear. Cayde was determined, firing the remanding five chambers of his hand cannon into the behemoths heavily modified armour. The bullets ricocheted off like a pebbles. With a heavy grunt, Zavala pushed the distracted commander off him, and then jumped to his. His fists erupted with lighting, and his eyes held a thunder storm. The commander threw a punch, Zavala weaved under it and jabbed into his rib cage. It landed with a sharp jolt of electricity, elastically he managed another three quick punches before the commander took a blind swipe. Knocked back to the ground, he hit the ground like meteor, and super charged shockwaves ripped off the commander's armour. Cayde and Ikora watched in astonishment. Ducking shotgun blasts, Zavala zipped smartly around the commander, shocking exposed fleshed and bringing the beast to its knees. One final slam with two fist against the commander skulls shook the ground so loud that every Fallen inside the invisible base must have felt it. Zavala quickly strapped the Commander's helmet to his back.

"Okay time to go." Cayde said summoning his sparrow. Which looked half like a motorbike, half like a stallion from the old west. The three of them zoomed over corpses hoping the reinforcements wouldn't give chase. Quickly the base disappeared behind them leaving only a vague plume of smoke from the battle.

The helmet landed on top of several documents, smearing them with charcoal. The chancellor adjusted his glasses. Zavala was in his doorway again, smeared with blood and ash. "There is your evidence, Chancellor." Zavala said, pointing to another piece of armour which he didn't much care for.  
"You're late. Your meeting was thirty minutes ago." The chancellor replied.  
"The traffic was terrific." Zavala said.  
"Very well. What do you need Zavala?" The chancellor concluded.

He could feel that the fallen were marching. The weather was as he had felt it in his vision. A dreamy fog covered the sky in soft glow. Zavala had passed the order to expect contact within the next hour, even though still no sight of the legion. Bulky Titan's surrounded him, and they all thought he was insane. Rumours of the security guard assault had spread apparently, and if Zavala had heard about a vanguard leader raving about the city being destroyed he would have thought that leader was crazy too. And now that he thought about it, the Chancellor was betting a lot on him. They had made a deal. Zavala had officially resigned as Vanguard leader, but the Chancellor had prepared troops for the 'battle,' although his still wasn't convinced. Today was Zavala's last day, and he didn't mind too much. The city needed to be united anyway, and he was not the one to do it. Tomorrow Cayde would assume his responsibilities – until a suitable replacement could be found. Cayde wasn't happy about it, double the workload he complained. It felt good to be a soldier again, Zavala thought.

Zavala was mounted on the highest point of the wall and felt it quake beneath him. Something had split it open. In the coming months of investigation it would be revealed that plasma-bomb had been planted there weeks earlier. The innards of the wall was exposed completely exposed. Zavala had a clear line of sight to the Jagged Plaines, and yet there was still not a fallen in sight. Until a crack whistled through the air, and a single fallen scout had dropped dead, his camouflage had malfunctioned.

Cayde was perched with his hunters in an alcove north of the city, and was the first to realise that they were all invisible, every single one of them. "Set visors to night vision, and turn gain all the way down." He barked. Looking through a night vision scope in daylight is blinding until you adjust the brightness. Suddenly the army popped. Thousands of them, all cloaked. He radioed Zavala, "They're invisible. All of them. Two kilometre from the wall." Looking carefully, Zavala could now see them squirming through the foggy daylight, glimmering just enough to notice with the naked eye. He wasn't sure if the mist helped see them or not, but either way, they had not prepared for this. The vision had given Zavala no clue. Or maybe it had but he was too busy trying to count unit sizes.

"GRENADES!" He ordered. The row of titan's lining the wall let off a wave of explosions. To the soldiers surprise corpses materialised in the debris. "Cayde tell your hunters not to waste time on critical shots, you only need to tag them." Cayde relayed the command to the snipers. One by one, fallen were surprised to be yanked out of camouflage, and feel a sharp pain wherever the bullet landed. A moment later they charged helplessly into the wall's split, before being gunned down by one of Zavala's titans. This cycle repeated itself, but only too slow.

Ikora's warlocks were waiting anxiously, hiding inside the wall. Some were clinging to the copper ceiling, others were looming beneath metal grates. They had expected a symphony of gunfire, instead they only heard the sound of someone practising at an empty firing range.  
"What's going on?" Ikora radioed.  
"I need your warlocks to summon a storm." Zavala said.  
"We're already in position. It'll ruin the element of surprise."  
"Do it. Now." Zavala finished.  
Ikora repeated the instruction's to her hiding warlocks. They swooped out of their shadows and glided off high railings. She led them through the split and they formed a short wall of guardians. Now they understood the practise range-battlefield. They watched as every moment a fallen blinked out of invisibility and into gunfire, a slow process. And they were getting close now, nearly close enough to open gunfire.

"Titans! Protect the Warlocks!" Zavala beckoned. The titan's launched themselves off the wall with their mounted jetpacks, which provided barely enough thrust to carry the hefty warriors. They heaved into earthy ground, shooting dirt in all directions. The warlocks behind them were impressed at their sheer velocity. One titan fumbled the landing and dislocated her arm. Before she had a chance to snap it into place a plasma bolt winged neck. They were within firing range. Zavala let out an earth shattering cry. This was the signal. The titan conglomerate threw down their bubbles of light, each of them struggling to hold it open under the raining gunfire. The bubbles formed a giant caterpillar structure and behind was a thin line of warlocks locking hands. Their eyes had glazed over in milky meditation. The dirt beneath them started to seep. The bright sun had glazed over too, and unassuming clouds began to form.

Cayde watched from his perch. A storm cloud was barrelling over the city. And between the wall and the fallen was a sandbag-barricade of guardians, holding the front line with iron-will and spirit of the Traveller. He could smell the coming rain. "Screw this," he muttered to himself, "They're not getting all the fun."

Gritting his teeth, holding his bubble up with every muscle in his body, Zavala watched Cayde's team jump out of their alcove and head for the invisible army's flank. The sun had disappeared and he took a look back at the warlock team. Their eyes glowed pure white, Ikora's face had a divine calm that frightened Zavala. More so than the ferrel fallen army, squirming in their skin for anything to eat.

A sprig of lightning jumped into the ground, a whip boomed from the sky. A fallen scout was frozen in an electric convulsions, his invisibility circuits were fried. The air was thick and hot and humid. Monsoon calibre rain erupted. The storm call had been answered.

A torrent of water slipped over the grassy mountain to the west, its current carried all sorts of local fauna and sundry. The muddy flash flood bounded past the guardian's and slapped against the fallen's ankles, knocking them off balance and into the troubled water. As the wave splashed past the fallen they're camouflage began to falter. They would blink in and out of reality, until finally settling on planet earth. The exhausted titan were given a moment to catch their breath. But only a moment because the second row managed to weather the flood, and kept firing. Even though the flood was at shin level, mud splattered up to army's neck, making them very un-invisible. "OPEN FIRE!" Zavala cried. The bubbles were dropped and traded for the projectiles. The crackling of firepower woke the warlocks, and they returned from their mediation with deadly precision. Fluidly dashing across the titan's they slid through mud with shotguns. Splashing through the rain and landing weighty blasts into muddy torsos. Cayde's flanking hunters were enjoying the noisy storm. Their hand cannons were as good as silenced. They were eating into the army's reserves undetected.

Without cover any cover, Zavala dived into the swarm. A rifle was aimed at his gut but he grabbed by the barrel, and aimed at an enemy scout. Friendly fire took care of that scout and he knocked down the rifle's owner by head butt. The violent rain reduced gunfire to a minimum. A distant fallen looking through a long scope and landed it's crosshairs on Zalava. The trigger didn't click, it was jammed with mud. Swiftly that same fallen had a throwing knife in its forehead, collected a second later by Cayde. His hand cannon too hand been jammed too. An old school free for all reminded Cayde of the brawl's he had accidentally started when he couldn't keep that mouth of his shut. Just like old times, he helped himself to a nip of bourbon he kept in his chest piece.

Ikora had watched Cayde finish his flask, she would have a word to him about protocol later, but for now she was occupied. A commander had catapulted itself towards her. She ripped off her cloak, now drenched it was carrying dead weight. The commander caught the cloak trying to maul her, like a matador, Ikora swung her shotgun into the back off its head and blew it to pieces. Then pumped her shotgun again for a Fallen who witnessed the breezy removal of its leader, before she could release the trigger, it had scattered away.

The tide had changed. Fallen were dribbling out of the battle, retreating to whatever safety could be found beyond the wall. Scavengers don't have a great sense nobility. Zavala stood in the crack of the wall. Plugging any scout reckless enough to push a final breach the city. All those years ago he had built the wall, now he had become the wall. A Fallen who dared approached him was met with a smart blow to the head. The battlefield was laid out in front of him. Fallen can be up to twice the height of a guardian, so he couldn't see his comrades per se, but he could see their shockwaves. The fallen would group together then splattered apart, as the formed and rippled on a single devastating guardian. It seemed like a banshee spirit was let loose on the battlefield. Muddy torso kept throwing themselves at Zavala and he kept throwing himself back. With quick pistol pops and hammering fists, he declared victory shortly after the Fallen's war siren called for retreat.

"Cayde, give it to me." Ikora said to a celebrating Cayde.  
"Give what?" He said, as she snatched his flask from his hip. She finished it off before shooting a hole through it.  
"You can't bring this into battle." She said, dropping it into the mud.  
"Not anymore!" He said. Zavala skipped over a fallen corpse and embraced Cayde like a boa constrictor. "What an excellent day!" Zavala shouted into his ear. Cayde tried to say something but the breath had been squeezed out of him. "Ikora," Zavala continue, "outstanding effort! Come here!" She tried to wiggle out of it but when a titan wants a hug it's inevitable, like a Labrador. The rain started to clear up. Beams of sunlight pierced through the dark clouds as Zavala made his way but to the Wall's split.  
"Guardians!" he beckoned to his legion, "I'm not a speaker, I'm not a leader, I'm only a mere warrior. So take this on good authority, today, you were TERRIFIC!" The guardians bellow him, dripping with mud, standing in an impromptu swamp, erupted with applause. "Also, beer's on me!" He added, further igniting the crowd.

"Thirteen thousand glimmer, spent on… War Assets…" The chancellor said, reading from a list.  
"Yes that is correct." Zavala said. His big armour barely fitting inside the office chair.  
"The receipt is from, Neon Ramen." The chancellor continued.  
"Uh, yes," Zavala added, "a gunsmith supplier."  
"Eight-thousand-two-hundred and fifty-eight, on Beer…"  
"Well hold on…"  
"Two-thousand-six-hundred and forty-two, on tequila…"  
"Nonsense, that's not on the invoice…"  
"Another two-thousand on Ramen…"  
"Now that is absurd, I think I would remember spending two thousand on Ramen."  
"Two-thousand on Ramen, at 4am."  
"Right. I had forgotten about." Zavala suddenly remembered chanting Ramen over and over again, in the late hours of the night.  
"Zavala. The reason I summoned you here – I don't believe this – but the senate has decided to renew your Vanguard leadership."  
"Really?" Zavala laughed.  
"You're victory against the Fallen resulted in a voter upswing. We might even win the next election."  
"Excellent!" Zavala said climbing out of his chair.  
"Well before you go, did you approve this other transaction too?"  
"Absolutely." He said leaving the office.  
"You need to pay for it!" The chancellor shouted after him.  
"Certainly!" He shouted back. Honestly, he didn't hear whatever the chancellor just said. But Zavala had learnt enough to stop fighting politicians. Just seem agreeable, was his new strategy.

Zavala burst through the Speakers' broken door, carrying an identical but unbroken-door.  
"I've replaced your door, Speaker!" He announced. The speaker asked his client for one moment.  
"Zavala honey, thanks a whole bunch, but just leave it there. I'm in the middle of something." But Zavala had already started drilling holes in the wall.  
"Two seconds, Speaker. Then it'll be good as new! How are you going? Sorry about your arm" Zavala said to security officer whose arm he shattered two weeks earlier.  
"Getting there," the security officer "struggling with chronic pain." But Zavala was drilling too loudly to hear. "Good to hear! See, good as new." Zavala said admiring the new door. "Okeydokey. Speaker I just wanted to say thank you for your wise words of wisdom. They have proven to be a light in recent darkness."  
"My pleasure sugar, how did you afford that door?"  
"It's a War Asset. Anyway, I'll leave you to your privacy. Best of luck soldier!" Zavala gave the security officer a rough slap on the back, snapping his spine into place. As he Zavala slammed the door shut the door's hinges bounced onto the marble floor, and the security officer was stunned that the pain was finally gone.


End file.
